


Sugar Lips and Sinful Hips

by TheFlailing



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Stucky Big Bang 2017, Sugar Daddy Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:58:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlailing/pseuds/TheFlailing
Summary: Bucky Barnes is a successful New York businessman, and at a glance, it looks like he's got everything a man could want. But deep down, underneath the money and the pretty face, the truth is this: he's lonely. Enter one Steven Grant Rogers: starving college student, just trying to make ends meet - and hot as fuck. Bucky desperately needs to be in his pants. And that's all; nothing more. Right?





	Sugar Lips and Sinful Hips

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO EVERYBODY!  
> It's been a while! Life has been really crazy this year, but let's not talk about that. Let's talk about THESE TWO NERDS AND AWESOME FANFICTION THINGS! The amazing wonderful mods over at [ The Stucky Library on Tumbr ](http://thestuckylibrary.tumblr.com/) have organized another amazing Big Bang event, and I'm so happy to be able to participate!
> 
> This has kind of been a plot bunny for a while, and I figured that this year's Big Bang was a great opportunity to get it out of my brain and onto the page (screen? idk XD). I had a blast writing it, and [ Glide-Thru ](https://glide-thru.tumblr.com/) was so accommodating of my erratic writing style. Glide-Thru has made amazing art - a photo manip for the title and a wonderful scene of Bucky and Steve on a date (I've inserted them both into the posting =D)
> 
> Anyways, enough chit-chat; I hope you enjoy the fic!

Thumbing button of his suit jacket through the buttonhole, Bucky tugged gently at the woven silk fabric to straighten it as he stepped out of the cab. Taking a deep breath, Bucky inhaled the evening New York City air and smiled. The building before him was old, its stone masonry made to imitate impressive classical architecture. It gave off an atmosphere of grandeur, its image associated with money, power, and influence, and it made Bucky smirk a fraction wider. Nat sure knew how to pick ‘em. Three steps led up to the restaurant’s front doors, which were fashioned from stained oak, heavy and worn with large polished brass handles.

As Bucky mounted the steps, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass windows. His long, dark hair was styled in an old-fashioned side part that his mother always favoured, and even in the dim lighting his blue eyes were striking. Not a thread was out of place on his perfectly tailored black suit jacket, buttoned on top of a glossy white shirt, freshly pressed, and a thin silver tie. Bucky may be approaching thirty, but his slim figure cut an elegant silhouette of which he was just a little bit embarrassed to admit that he was proud.

The maître d’ greeted Bucky from behind his station as he entered the foyer, plush carpet padding every step of his polished leather shoes. A serene, classical melody and the soft chatter of conversation wafted from the direction of the dining room, and the warm air smelled like roasting meat and simmering sauces – already Bucky was starting to salivate.

“I have a reservation,” Bucky said as he approached.

“Very good sir; under what name?”

“Romanov, for two.”

The maître d’ made a show of checking the bookings list before looking up to Bucky with a smile. “Ah, yes, Ms. Romanov has already arrived. Please, this way.”

Hands clasped behind his back and back straight as a board, the maître d’ led Bucky to the ornamented dining hall, through a maze of tables until they reached one on the far side of the room. Small and circular, it was the perfect size for two. The woman sitting at the table stood to greet him.

“James Barnes,” she said with a toothy smile that was half predatory, and half made him feel like the two of them shared a secret known to no other.

Natasha, as always, was dressed to perfection. Her hair was coiffed into a masterpiece of fiery red curls that framed her oval face, and the shade of her locks was almost a perfect match to the scorching crimson shade of her lipstick. She was wearing an elegant, opalescent dress that shimmered faintly in the lamplight, and paired it with a string of pearls, matching pearl earrings, and a myriad of glittering rings. As always, Bucky was a little breathless in her radiant and deadly company.

“Nat, it’s good to see you,” Bucky said as he placed a friendly kiss to her cheek.

“It’s been too long,” Nat said as she smiled once more.

“The menu, sir,” the maître d’ said, placing a thick sheet of cream coloured paper in front of Bucky once they had resumed their seats. “Your waiter this evening will be with you momentarily,” he said before bowing and departing.

“You’ll like this place,” Nat said as Bucky picked up his menu. “I picked it especially for you.”

Bucky chuckled. “Really? That’s surprising. This is more your style than mine, Nat.” Bucky’s style, had he been given the choice, would have been less... extravagant. Not that he didn’t appreciate fine dining – on the contrary, he loved trying the exquisite food that came out of New York’s elite restaurants, where food was more art than sustenance and every plate cost more than some people earned in a day – but he was a Brooklynite at heart, and sometimes nothing beat a good burger and fries.

“Oh? Too classy for you?”

“Too Russian,” Bucky said with a teasing grin.

The red-headed woman laughed. “Are you already passing judgement? You’ve been here for less than five minutes.”

Bucky hummed in response, pretending to peruse his menu. “I didn’t say that.” Teasing Nat was a familiar game, and one that they both played lightheartedly. He knew he was one of a select few people in the world allowed to do that – Nat didn’t trust many people, and on top of that most people feared her too much to trust her.

When he looked up, Natasha was smiling at him over the top of her own menu, looking as though they were conspiring over some devious plot together. “Have a little faith. You’ll like it here, I promise,” she said cryptically before lowering her eyes to her menu once more.

Bucky chuckled. “Do you have any recommendations?” he asked as he skimmed the entrée options.

“I think you’ll like the beef,” Nat replied casually.

“The beef? Hmm... maybe. I was looking at the Cornish hen.” According to the menu, it was roasted to perfection with a medley of root vegetables and served with a white wine sauce and potato gratin.

Nat shrugged. “Whatever you like. I’m getting the swordfish; it was divine the last time I ordered it here.”

Setting his menu down, Bucky glanced around. The cream coloured walls were decorated with expansive mirrors and oil paintings contained within gold-leaf accented frames. Definitely too extravagant. “How’s life, Nat? You look good.”

“Can’t complain,” Nat said with one of very rare genuine smiles. Bucky loved it when he got the chance to see one of those – Natasha rarely showed any vulnerability, and it was always a special treat for him whenever she let go of her mask in his presence. “I just got back from settling a business deal in Paris. The city is lovely this time of year.”

“Mm, is it? I’ve never been.”

“It is. The weather is to die for. There’s nothing quite like sitting on the patio of a tiny Parisian café in the early spring air.”

“That sounds lovely,” Bucky said, picturing in his mind.

Natasha must have seen the longing in his face, because she softly replied, “You should visit sometime, James.”

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You have the time and the money; you could go any time you wanted. And not just Paris; you should travel more. See the world.”

Exhaling, Bucky leaned back, crossed his right leg over his left knee, and threw an arm over the back of his chair. “I know, I know.”

It wasn’t that he couldn’t or didn’t want to travel; it was just that Bucky would rather not travel alone. Seeing the world was something he wanted to share with people, whether it was with a group of friends or with someone special, and that, as it turned out, was entirely the issue. Bucky would be the last to admit it, but he led a somewhat lonely life. Not that his life was lacking in people – he knew lots of people, and he was a very social person, but most of his acquaintances were tied to his business, and because of that, he had the tendency to hold them at arm’s length. What few close friends he did happen to have were either too busy, not interested in travel, or both.

“Stop making excuses, James, or you’re going to end up like one of those sad people you read about in the news, the ones with all the money in the world and nobody to share it with.”

Bucky was about to protest, but just then, their waiter arrived.

“Good evening, sir, ma’am. I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” said a deep, rich voice at the same time that a large, pale hand reached across the table for the water glasses. “I’m Steve, and I’ll be serving you tonight,” said the waiter as he poured ice water.

Bucky looked up and oh, oh, he was going to _murder_ Nat for this – and he knew she had something to with it, the way she was smirking – because damn did Steve look like the only place he belonged was either on the cover of a fashion magazine, in a porn movie, or in Bucky’s bed (Bucky preferred the last option, naturally). He was tall with broad shoulders, and looked to have well-muscled body that filled in his serving uniform extremely well, leaving almost nothing to the imagination underneath the black silk vest, pressed white shirt, and perfectly creased trousers. His short golden hair looked like the first ray of sunshine in the morning and he had green eyes the colour of a glassy sea in the midst of a summer storm.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” Steve asked with a friendly smile that practically radiated warmth. Bucky could feel his insides starting to rearrange themselves and he was already wondering what Steve would look like with those pale rosy lips wrapped around a thick, hard cock (preferably, Bucky’s cock) with thick, white spurts of –

“Yes, I’ll have a glass of the Bordeaux Sauvignon Blanc,” Nat requested, smiling wolfishly and batting her eyelashes.

Bucky swallowed delicately. (Nat was a force of nature when she wanted to be, which was actually pretty much all the time).

“Of course; that’s an excellent choice,” Steve replied with professionalism. If it wasn’t for the slightest bit of a blush that dusted his cheekbones, Bucky wouldn’t have noticed that Nat’s raw sexual energy had fazed the waiter at all. It was impressive – not many people had the ability to withstand Natasha’s attention relatively unscathed. “And for you sir?” Steve said, turning to Bucky – and oh good god his stomach felt like it was dropping through the floor.

Shrugging, Bucky acted like he was indifferent towards the drink list. There was only a slim chance that Steve was the kind of man who would be interested in other men, but Bucky intended to find out for sure. Raising one eyebrow, Bucky cleared his throat and asked, “What do you recommend?” (And okay, so what if he wanted to hear more of Steve deep, rich voice than anything else? It was all part of the plan!)

“That depends on what you are having, sir. If you like, I’m sure our sommelier would be delighted to make a pairing for you.” The words fell from Steve’s lips like drops of butter from a golden spoon, and Bucky could already feel desire pooling in the pit of his gut.

“That won’t be necessary,” Bucky said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Well in that case, I would personally suggest this Riesling,” he said, carefully pointing to the particular wine on the drink menu in Bucky’s hands. The movement caused the slightest stir in the air, and Bucky caught the faintest whiff of Steve’s cologne (which totally did not have anything to do with his churning intestines). “We import it from Germany. It’s a rather dry variety, and has a crisp, medium body.”

“I’ll have a glass of that then,” Bucky said, leaning back and licking his lips.

He was watching Steve very closely and his heart did a double beat when the tall waiter’s eyes darted down to Bucky’s mouth for a fraction of a second before he replied, “Very good, sir.” A touch of a blush dusted the man’s cream pale cheeks.

Bucky smirked. That was certainly promising.

“Are you ready to order now, or would you like a few more minutes?” Steve asked next, looking between the two diners.

Nat raised an eyebrow at Bucky.

“Mm,” Bucky said, turning his eyes to Steve and very obviously giving him a thorough once-over. “I don’t suppose the chef will let me order off menu?” he said evenly.

Steve cleared his throat very quietly. Unconsciously, the waiter straightened his posture, which had the effect of accentuating the curve of his deliciously full ass and his large, broad chest. “I’m afraid the chef doesn’t take requests,” he said, trying to sound apologetic while at the same time giving him a toothy grin.

“That’s a terrible shame,” Bucky said with a small sigh, deliberately dragging his eyes up and down Steve’s body once more (to Bucky’s delight, Steve’s blush deepened ever so slightly). “In that case, I’ll have the mushroom veal consommé to start, the spiced duck, and the earl grey panna cotta for dessert.”

Steve nodded, memorizing the order as it was given without batting an eye. “And for you, ma’am?”

“I’ll start with the steak tartar, followed by the swordfish, and for dessert, the raspberry devil’s tarte,” Nat replied, a frighteningly sweet smile on her painted lips.

“Thank you very much,” Steve said. As he retrieved her menu, she winked at him, and Steve’s blush continued to darken, the rosy hue spilling over his cheeks deliciously. Bucky wondered if Steve was a full body blusher, and if he was, he wondered exactly how red Steve could flush. "I'll be right back with your wine," he said before retreating.

Nat didn’t say anything as she lifted her water glass by the stem and took a sip.

“I am going to murder you,” Bucky whispered as he picked up his own glass of water, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs as he did so.

“You can try, but I doubt you would succeed,” Nat replied – how she managed to sound both sweet and deadly was beyond him.

“Shut it; you’re totally enjoying this.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” she said innocently with a flutter of her eyes.

“Of course you don’t.”

-8-

Dinner was, of course, exquisite. The quality of the food was beyond excellent, as Bucky expected it to be (Nat refused to do anything cheap when she could have the best, because “you only live once James, and I intend to enjoy every fucking minute of it”). It was also wonderful to catch up with her and hear about all the outrageous things that happened in her working life. It had almost been two months since she’d last been in New York City, and Bucky had missed her company.

The evening reminded Bucky about when he’d first met Natasha. Her business deals had kept her mostly on the East Coast back then, travelling mainly between Boston, Chicago, DC, and New York. They’d worked together on several contracts and had maintained friendly rapport from the start, and then, a couple years ago, they’d become trapped in, and subsequently helped each other escape from, a sordid corporate takeover. They’d been close ever since.

While present company and the food were exceptional, Bucky had to admit that the highlight of the evening had been their deliciously hot waiter.

Nat seemed to have engaged Bucky in an I-bet-I-can-get-Steve-to-blush-more-than-you-can contest, the result of which was one medium-rare looking six-foot-something piece of beef in a serving uniform. Bucky honestly didn’t care that Nat was winning the competition, because getting to see Steve try to hold up against their combined sexual energies was more fun than he could remember having in a long time. Bucky had to give him credit though; the young man seemed to be handling the attention better than expected.

When the bill arrived, Nat’s hand was on top of the small leather holder before Bucky could even reach for it. When he looked up, Nat had raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow in challenge.

“I can’t let you pay for all of our dinner dates; what kind of gentleman would I be?” Bucky asked.

“The kind of gentleman who isn’t bothered by heteronormative ideas about men always paying for dinner,” Nat replied as she opened her jeweled clutch and removed a credit card. “And besides, I invited you out. What kind of host would I be if I didn’t get the bill?”

Bucky laughed. “Alright, fair enough. I can never win with you, can I?”

“Nope” Nat said, popping the ‘p’ playfully with her full, red lips.

Natasha continued to flirt mercilessly with Steve when he collected her card, and shortly after, the two of them were waltzing out of the restaurant, Nat’s arm curled around Bucky’s bicep.

“Drinks?” he asked once they stepped into to cool night air.

“I’d love to, really, but I have a meeting in the morning,” Nat said, turning to face him.

“I figured as much, but I thought I’d try anyway,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“Next time I’m in New York, I promise.” Nat sighed and her fingers tightened on his arm. “I’m sorry. I know you get lonely here and-”

“What? Lonely?”

“Honestly James, do you think I’m blind?”

Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t come up with anything for a moment.

“I’ll try to drop by for an evening soon. Definitely within the next month.”

“Alright,” Bucky said, trying to smile.

“Okay?”

Bucky nodded.

“Take care of yourself in the meantime, yes?” Nat said, leaning in to kiss Bucky on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon. Thank you for joining me this evening; it was good to see you tonight.”

“It was great to see you too Nat.”

Stepping away from one another, Natasha approached the sidewalk to flag down a taxi. Bucky stood beside her as she waved at the oncoming traffic, the harsh, fluorescent light playing off her pearls and the curls in her hair. It wasn’t long before a cab stopped for her, and as the car drove away, Bucky waved goodbye until it turned the corner.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky held the cold night air in his lungs, feeling it prickle inside his chest for a moment before blowing it out. As he watched the mist of his exhale dance and dissipate, he decided to walk home.

Stuffing his hands into his silk pockets, Bucky pointed his shoes south.

-8-

The past week had been a fucking disaster. Honestly, sometimes Bucky wondered if his ridiculously large salary was worth all the blood, sweat, and tears required to meet deadlines. When a client was being difficult like this, it wasn’t absurd for him to be putting in upwards of eighty hours in a week and he was just so done. Thank god the DC contract was finally concluded.

Bucky sat back in his office chair and scrubbed his hands over his face. He was ready for drink right about now. The large bay windows of his corporate office looked out over Manhattan, and the soft glow of the late evening sky filtered in through the blinds. Bucky stood from his chair and stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his back. He should probably hit the gym over the weekend, but first, dinner and a good night’s sleep.

Bucky straightened up the paperwork on his desk before grabbing his suit jacket, but just as he was pulling it on, a piece of paper fell out of one of the pockets.

“What’s this?” he muttered to himself as Bucky bent to pick it up.

The small white rectangle turned out to be a business card. The name of a restaurant was printed in cursive golden letters on the front. It seemed familiar, but Bucky couldn’t quite place why. When he flipped it over, Bucky found a note scrawled on the back in a neat, loopy script.

You’re welcome.  
-Nat

You’re welcome? What...?

And then it hit him.

It was a business card for the place they’d gone for dinner a couple months ago, the one with the ridiculously hot waiter.

Bucky tapped the card against his lips absentmindedly, wondering if Hot Blonde Waiter – what was his name again? – still worked there, and if so, if he was working tonight. What the hell, Bucky thought; it wasn’t like he had any particular plans for dinner, and the food had been really good. And on the off-chance that the hot waiter was working? Well wouldn’t that just be icing on the cake?

Making up his mind, Bucky gathered his things and locked up his office.

It didn’t take long for him to hail a cab. By the time it pulled up in front the restaurant, twilight was settling upon the city, and the sparkling lights of the city were beginning to stand out against the darkening sky.

Pulling his suit jacket closed, Bucky mounted the steps and entered. If the maître d’ thought it was strange for a guest to be dining alone, she didn’t show any indication of it as she led him through the brightly lit dining hall to a table on the far end of the room.

“Your waiter will be right with you,” she said as she handed him a menu and stepped away.

Settling into his seat, Bucky took a moment to do a slow sweep of the room. The place was pretty much exactly as he had remembered it, decked out in muted cream colours, accented with lots of gold, the lavish art adorning the walls giving the space the feel of renaissance France. It was a full night, and part of Bucky had been surprised to have been able to get a table without a reservation or a line.

Bucky spent a couple minutes looking over the wait staff, trying to see if he recognized any of them, but it was hard to pick them out the crowd, and eventually he looked down at the menu. There were a couple of items he didn’t recognize from his previous visit with Nat. It was late summer, and the menu reflected the season in subtle ways. He was looking at a particularly intriguing dish on the menu that looked like it involved veal, asparagus, and more butter than was probably healthy, when he felt the presence of another human being approach the table.

“Good evening, sir.” (Bucky totally did not shiver at the deep, rich timbre of the voice).

Looking up, Bucky’s gaze was met with crystalline green eyes, framed by a strong brow and a neatly tamed shock of golden blonde hair.

Bucky smiled.

(It might have been a little bit predatory).

“Hello... Steve,” he said, glancing at the man’s name tag to refresh his memory.

As Steve poured water into Bucky’s empty glass, he smiled. “How are you this evening?”

“I can’t complain,” Bucky said with a shrug. “It’s been long week, but it’s Friday, so it’s not so bad.”

Steve hummed in agreement.

“How about you?” Bucky asked, leaning forwards on the table. As he did so, a few stray locks of his hair fell across forehead, and Bucky casually brushed them aside. Curiously, Steve’s eyes seemed to follow the movement of his hand as he tucked the strands behind his ear.

“Fine, thanks. Can I start you off with something to drink, sir?”

Not trying to be at all subtle, Bucky deliberately and very slowly raked his eyes up and down Steve’s person. He was wearing the same uniform as before, and it clung to the young man’s muscles in all the right places.

Steve visibly swallowed.

“A glad of the house red,” Bucky said eventually, enjoying the way Steve was trying not to squirm under his gaze. As Steve went to retrieve his drink, Bucky took the time to appreciate Steve’s incredibly toned ass. Lord, if he could order that ass for dinner he’d be happy just eating that all night. He’d been thinking about whether or not he wanted to make a move on Steve, but as he watched that deliciously perky ass walk away from him, Bucky decided that it would be a crime if didn’t at least try.

When Steve came back with the wine, Bucky turned up the charm. The man looked good when he his face was dusted with a light blush. In the end, Bucky decided to order a seafood salad, a venison dish that sounded divine, and a slice of chocolate cake for dessert. Sipping his wine, Bucky wondered what kind of food Steve enjoyed. Did he even like the upscale kind of food that they served here? Or was it too rich for his blood? Did he instead prefer a burger and fries?

As he waited for his starter, Bucky glanced around the room once more, swirling the dark liquid in his glass lazily.

The restaurant was really busy, and although the other patrons kept Steve very occupied (and therefore away from his table), Bucky kept the waiter in the corner of his eye at all times (what could he say? The view was heavenly). As he finished up his seafood ceviche salad, Bucky idly wondered if Steve remembered him from his last visit.

The meal passed by in pleasurable silence. Bucky was accustomed to dining alone, and the atmosphere of the restaurant was charming. Alone with his thoughts, Bucky was free to fantasize about all the things he would do to Steve if given the chance, all while eating some of the best food he’d ever tasted.

By the time the bill came, Bucky was feeling full and relaxed, the hardships of the week all but forgotten. Steve was serving another table as Bucky paid for his meal, and as he watched the curve of Steve’s huge shoulders and arms, he wondered what kind of tip was appropriate to leave for someone he desperately wanted to bed.

In the end, he settled on giving Steve a hundred dollar tip, and folded one of his business cards inside the bill with the words 'call me' scrawled on the back.

So what if it was rather forward? Bucky wanted one thing, and he wasn’t afraid of asking for it. There was a chance that Steve would find his lack of tact off putting, but judging by the way the man was blushing, he didn’t think it would. As he stepped into the warm summer night, Bucky smiled to himself.

Now, to wait.

-8-

The text came the next evening. Bucky was at the gym; he had just finished his workout and was cleaning up for the evening. Emerging from the showers, he had a towel wrapped around his waist and was drying his hair with another. Opening his locker, he was removing his change of clothes from his gym bag when he saw the blinking notification on his phone.

Unknown number (7:04pm)  
Hi James, it’s Steve from the restaurant

Bucky grinned to himself. Sitting down on the empty wooden bench, Bucky opened up a text to reply. The locker room was pretty empty, and in the large, cavernous space, the sounds of bare feet on tile and running water from the adjacent showers echoed faintly.

Bucky (7:23pm)  
Hi Steve, it’s good to hear from you. Please call me Bucky

Setting his phone on the bench, Bucky grabbed his boxer-briefs and stood to pull them on. No sooner had the elastic snapped against his skin, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Steve (7:24pm)  
Bucky? That’s a strange name

Steve (7:24pm)  
Not that it’s a bad name! I’ve just never met a ‘Bucky’ before

Steve (7:24pm)  
It’s unique. I like it

Staring down at his phone, Bucky chuckled.

Bucky (7:25pm)  
It’s a nickname from grade school. I guess I never grew out of it

He was trying to think of what to say next when Steve beat him to it.

Steve (7:27pm)  
So... Bucky, I assume you gave me your number for a reason?

Bucky smiled. Oh yes, there was definitely a reason, and he knew that Steve could probably guess what that reason was.

Bucky (7:27pm)  
I was wondering if you were free to go for dinner sometime

Steve (7:28pm)  
I might be. What did you have in mind?

Bucky (7:28pm)  
Was thinking about taking you out to a nice restaurant for an evening out, and after that, going back to my place to fuck you senseless for a couple hours

Smiling to himself, Bucky went back to putting on his clothes. He took his time stepping into his sweatpants, tying the string so that they clung low to his hips, and then pulled his black tank top over his head. He threw on a light zip-up hoodie on top of that, and he was done. There was still no reply from Steve, so Bucky busied himself with stashing all of his stuff into his gym bag. Bucky was just leaving the building when Steve’s reply finally came.

Steve (7:36pm)  
Wow you really get straight to the point, don’t you?

Bucky (7:36pm)  
What can I say? I’m the kind of guy who knows what he wants

Steve (7:36pm)  
No kidding

Steve (7:38pm)  
I’m be free next Thursday night

Bucky checked his calendar. Work could be unpredictable sometimes, but thankfully, most of his projects were in a lull period at the moment, and it wouldn’t be hard to schedule work around this play date.

Bucky (7:40pm)  
That works for me. I’ll make reservations and text you the details

Steve (7:41pm)  
Sounds good

This was going to be fun. Very, very fun.

-8-

It took Bucky longer than usual to find a place for his date with Steve. It’d been a while since he’d done this sort of casual date-plus-hookup kind of thing, and even if he only saw Steve once, he still wanted to pick a nice place. Bucky liked to treat his dates well, even if they were only one-night stands. In the end, he settled on an upscale place in lower Manhattan. Judging from the reviews, the price, and the pictures on the website, it was looked promising.

Leaning back in his office chair, Buck pulled up the number to the restaurant and dialed. The host who answered was quick, and making the reservation was thankfully painless.

Opening up their text conversation, Bucky typed out the details and sent them to Steve, playfully asking him to dress up for the occasion (Bucky was definitely looking forward to slowly peeling back the layers of Steve’s clothes later on in the evening). They hadn’t messaged each other since Steve agreed to go out with him, but that was okay with Bucky. He wasn’t really expecting much to come out of this to begin with.

Thursday was still a couple days away, but it would give him something to look forward to. In the meantime, Bucky would just have to try not to get lost in his daydreams when he was supposed to be working.

-8-

Bucky swirled red wine in the fine-cut crustal glass, being careful not to spill even a drop on his custom tailored suit. The dining room was dimly lit, and the low lamplight danced across the surface of the deep crimson liquid as Bucky held the glass stem his fingers. He’d arrived ten minutes early and made himself comfortable at the table, lounging in the plush chair, one arm hooked over the back and the other on the armrest.

The restaurant looked even better in person than it did online, and Bucky was pleased with his selection. The décor had a modern theme, dominated by steel, glass, stone, and shades of dark gray and black. Despite the metallic colour scheme, it managed to pull off an edgy yet welcoming feel that was sure to make a good impression. The use of fabric drapes and generous spacing gave each table a private atmosphere, and the voices of conversation were low and muted. The service so for had been impeccable, and from what he’d seen from the menu, even if the date didn’t go well, the food at least wouldn’t disappoint.

Taking a sip of his drink, Bucky cast his eyes across the dining room and spotted a well-groomed shock of luminous golden hair.

Bucky smiled.

Weaving their way between the tables and display pieces was the hostess, guiding a nervous looking Steve. He was wearing a pair of tight, neatly pressed dressed pants and a black suit jacket, both of which seems to cling to Steve’s body like a second skin. Underneath the jacket, Steve wore a powder blue shirt, the top button of which was left undone, giving Bucky a glimpse of the milky white skin between his collar bones. Sitting up straighter in his seat, Bucky gently placed the wine glass back on the table as they approached.

“Steve,” Bucky greeted with a wide smile.

“Bucky, hi,” Steve said as he took his seat. The host placed a menu on the table in front of him and retreated from sight.

“It’s good to see you again,” Bucky said, and couldn’t help but grin. Steve really was a feast for the eyes, and Bucky was going to enjoy every moment of it. Now that he was seated close, however, Bucky noticed that Steve’s suit wasn’t tight in the form-fitted personally tailored kind of way, it was tight in the one-size-too-small kind of way, evidenced by the fact that his sleeves were about an inch too short, exposing the man’s pale, bare wrists. “How was your day?” Bucky asked as he poured some wine front the decanter into Steve’s glass.

Steve thanked him for the wine before replying. “It was alright. Yours?”

“Busy,” Bucky laughed as he sat back, collecting his own wine glass from the table once more.

“Oh? Tell me about it?”

Bucky glossed over his day at the office as Steve looked over the menu, and they made small talk until server arrived. Steve asked him about his business, and Bucky explained as best he could without over-complicating things with technical details.

“So,” Steve said as their waiter retreated with their menus and orders, “I’m not a Commerce Major, but basically what you’re saying is that you’re a big shot business man.” He had a shrewd yet teasing expression on his face, and Steve folded his hands together on the table as he leaned forward.

“Basically,” Bucky surmised, returning Steve’s grin. Seizing the opportunity to learn more about his date, Bucky asked, “If you’re not a business major, then what is your major?”

Steve shrugged. “Fine Art and American History.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Double major?”

“Double honours, actually,” Steve replied, a faint blush rising on his cheeks.

“Really? That’s impressive,” Bucky said honestly. “Have you specialized yet?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“Uh... yeah, I have,” Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the table (Bucky thought it was extremely cute).

Bucky waited expectedly in silence for Steve to elaborate.

“I... uh... do mostly traditional art for that part of the degree; I’m best at sketches, but I’ve gotten a lot better at painting since I started my degree. I can do some graphic art too, but I’m still best with the non-digital stuff.”

“Yeah?” If Steve had already specialized, it must mean that he was in his third or fourth year of college; third, if he would have to hazard a guess, given his age.

“Yeah, for sure. I like having a paintbrush or pencil between my fingers.” Steve was looking at his hands as he spoke, absorbed in his thoughts. “It feels solid, you know? Like, holding a book. I know a lot of people like e-books and stuff and there’s nothing wrong with that, they’re super handy, but it’s just not the same and holding a well-read book in your hands, to feel the weight of the pages and the texture of the paper between your fingers.”

“So you enjoy working with your hands? I bet you handle lots of things, not just books and paintbrushes,” Bucky teased.

Bucky could see the exact moment that the joke registered. Steve’s unfocused gaze sharpened and he looked up with a smirk. “Oh yeah, definitely. I’m good with hands. Very good. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Oh?” Bucky said with a laugh. “You think you’re so experienced?”

“Oh, I know I’m experienced.”

“That’s cute; I doubt you have more experience than me, kid,” Bucky said with a wink.

“Don’t underestimate me, old man,” Steve replied, playfully pointing a finger at Bucky across the table. “I may only be 21, but I’ve done a lot of shit.”

Bucky had the urge to ask Steve what kind of things he’d done in the bedroom – what was he into? What kinds of kinks did he have? Did he like bondage? Did he like to top? Or did he prefer to bottom? Or maybe he was versatile? What kinds of toys had he tried? Which position was his favourite? But a tiny voice in his mind told him it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to ask – not yet, at least. “And what if I don’t believe you?” Bucky said instead, raising a challenging eyebrow.

“I’ll prove it to you.” Steve said decisively.

Bucky grinned. “Sounds like a challenge.” He couldn’t wait to find out what Steve was capable of doing in bed.

“Besides,” Steve continued, “you can’t be that old. How much more experience do you think you have?”

“Oh, about nine years’ worth, give or take a couple months depending on your birthday.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and in the dim lighting, his crystal blue eyes were clear and shimmered ever so slightly. “You’re 30?”

“Should I be offended?”

“NO! God I- Sorry, it’s just, you look a lot younger than 30. I thought you were, like, in your mid-twenties or something.”

Bucky laughed. “If only that were true.”

“Still,” Steve said, the blush returning to his face, “you look really good for 30.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said earnestly.

“You must work out.”

“A bit,” he replied with a shrug, examining the wine glass in his hands. “I do what I can to stay in shape, but it’s hard. Being a consultant is really demanding and time is kind of a luxury.”

Steve nodded.

“You, on the other hand, probably work out every day.”

“Well... not EVERY day... I take Wednesdays and Sundays off.”

Bucky let out a hearty laugh. “So, practically every day.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but just then, their waiter returned to refill their decanter. As Bucky watched the dark vermillion liquid tumble into the cut crystal container, he smiled to himself. It was shaping up to be a good night.

-8-

The rest of dinner went well. Really, really well, in Bucky’s opinion, and he hoped that Steve was enjoying himself as much as Bucky was. It was more enjoyable than any other date he could remember. Steve had been rather guarded at the beginning of the meal, but slowly began opening up as they talked. Bucky discovered that Steve had a witty sense of humour, and they got along well.

The best moment of the night (so far), Bucky thought, came when he was telling a story about this one particularly difficult classmate he had in high school. It was a particularly stupid time in Bucky’s life, and the ending – which is extremely embarrassing for all parties involved at the time – caused Steve to erupt into a full bodied laugh. The man had dropped his fork into his plate and grabbed at his chest as he threw back his head. It was so unrestrained, and so charmingly Steve; Bucky definitely wanted to hear more of it. Hell, he wanted to be the one causing Steve to laugh like that.

As they finished up dessert, Steve quieted down, and seemed to become more reserved. After Bucky paid the bill and they got into a cab, the remainder of the evening’s plans seemed to hang heavily in the air between them. Steve was nervous, and Bucky didn’t blame him; after all, it was only natural. Gazing out the cab window, Bucky watched as the streetlights and skyscrapers of New York City passed by, a blue of people, concrete, steel, and glass.

“We don’t have to, if you’re uncomfortable,” Bucky said quietly.

“Hm?”

Bucky turned to look at Steve, shadowed in the darkness of the car. The bright lights of the passing city danced across the skin of his face, casting strange shapes across his cheekbones. “I’m just letting you know. There’s no pressure. Don’t feel like it’s an obligation or anything like that.”

Steve shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I want to do this. I’m just, uh, well, it’s been a while,” he admitted quietly.

“That’s okay. Honestly, it’s been a while for me too. And if at any point you don’t feel comfortable or you want to stop, just let me know.”

A small hesitant smile crept onto Steve’s lips. “I... Thanks, Bucky.”

They arrived at Bucky’s building, and neither said anything as they entered. Bucky’s lavish apartment was on the 48th floor of the 55-storey building, and the entire elevator ride, he kept his hands to himself. Steve was giving off the vibe that he needed a bit of space, so Bucky didn’t want to cross any boundaries.

Bucky’s apartment took up exactly half of the entire floor. Unlocking the door, he flicked on the foyer lights as he toed off his shoes. “Welcome to my place.”

Steve let out a low whistle. “Impressive.”

Ahead of the foyer, the right side opened up into the spacious, south-facing living room. The kitchen and dining area was beyond that, facing west. The left wall of the foyer led to a hallway that broke off from the living room, leading to the guest bedrooms, den, and master bedroom ensuite.

Bucky stood back and let Steve take in the view. As he did so, Bucky tried to see his apartment from Steve’s eyes. The rooms were decorated with paintings and sculptures he’d accumulated over the years. Most of them were a mixed collection of gifts from clients or business partners; Bucky had only personally picked a handful of the things on display, and most of those were impulse buys to begin with. The result was a kind of jumbled, mismatch of things that blended in with the bland furniture. Bucky didn’t really have an eye for interior design, and it didn’t much matter to him anyways.

“It’s nice.” Steve’s voice was quiet.

Gently, Bucky touched Steve’s elbow, and the taller man turned to face Bucky.

Bucky gave him a small, reassuring smile. A moment of silence settled between them before Bucky spoke. “Can I kiss you?”

Steve hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning Bucky’s face, before replying. “Yes.”

Stepping forward, Bucky tilted his face up (Steve was so tall! Definitely three or four inches taller than Bucky, at least) and pressed their lips together.

The kiss started off relatively tame – simply the chaste brushing of lips against lips – but as the tension slowly seeped from the atmosphere, it began to grow heated. Steve took a half step closer, one hand falling to Bucky’s waist; Bucky’s fingers found Steve’s bicep in response, curling around the strong, firm muscle encased by the silky fabric of his suit. As Steve gasped, his hot breath danced over Bucky’s skin and his other hand found the small of Bucky’s back. Bucky’s grip tightened.

When Bucky moaned softly, Steve slipped the tip of his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky found his other hand at the base of Steve’s neck, his nails scraping delicately across pale, alabaster skin.

Both men lost themselves in the embrace, and Bucky tried to savour every moment of it – the taste of Steve’s mouth, the faint scent of his cologne, the feeling of Steve’s hard, muscular body in his arms. Time seemed to melt away, and Steve presence suffused all of Bucky senses, washing over him like the warm ocean waves on a sunny tropical beach.

Eventually – Bucky didn’t know how much time had passed – the need for oxygen forced them to separate, and they parted just far enough to catch their breath.

“Bed?” Bucky asked, panting.

“Definitely,” Steve said, and Bucky could feel his smile pressing against the side of his jaw.

-8-

“Oh... oh my god, Bucky,” Steve panted, his breathing ragged.

Bucky smiled, his face pressed against Steve’s hairline and his arms wrapped around Steve’s shoulders and the back of his head. He could feel Steve’s hot, uneven breath against his collarbone, the man’s beautiful face pressed into Bucky’s chest. He could feel Steve’s heart beating against the man’s ribs. Steve hands were resting on Bucky’s hips, his fingers twitching involuntarily as the man recovered from his third orgasm of the night.

“I... I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Bucky laughed. Gently, he lifted himself up onto his knees, feeling Steve slip out of him as he did so.

“Oh my god.”

Bucky just laughed again.

“That was incredible. I take back what I said about experience.”

“Ready for round three?”

“ROUND THREE?” Steve’s voice contained a mix of excitement, disbelief, and physical exhaustion, but the way his hands tightened and his cock twitched, it was clear that the young man was very much interested in continuing.

Bucky just laughed and reached over for another condom.

-8-

Bucky was woken by the shifting of weight on the bedsprings and the rustle of sheets. Groaning, be buried his face deeper into his pillow. Absently, he slid an arm across the bed, and was surprised to find the sheets warm but empty. Cracking open an eye, he spotted a shadow at the edge of the bed.

“Steve?” he asked, watching him through one half-open eye.

A string of whispered curses floated through the darkness and across Bucky’s barely-conscious brain.

“What time is it?”

The figure turned, and the bed dipped as it leaned across the bed to draw up the covers again. “It’s just past 6 in the morning,” Steve said, his deep voice quiet and soothing. “Go back to sleep.”

“UG,” Bucky said as he yawned and stretched.

“No, you don’t have to get up,” Steve said, a hand on Bucky’s bare shoulder.

“Might as well,” he said sleepily. “My alarm will go off in like half an hour anyways.” It wouldn’t hurt to get up early. Bucky had a meeting with some important clients before lunch, and the extra time to prep would be good. Reaching over, Bucky flicked on the bedside lamp. “You can have the shower first. If you want something to change into, help yourself to anything in that dresser that fits,” he said, gesturing towards the one in the corner where he kept his casual and workout clothes.

“Uh... are you... sure?” Steve asked, and when Bucky glanced over, there was an uncertain look on the young man’s face.

“Yeah. Go ahead. I’ll see what I can dig up for breakfast.” Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up, Bucky rubbed his face as Steve crossed the room. Once he heard the click of the door and the lock sliding into place, Bucky gathered the energy to leave the bed. As much as he’d like to sleep in and maybe go another round with Steve, he was a responsible adult who needed to get ready for work.

Pulling on a pair of long pajama pants, Bucky shuffled into the kitchen. Although the sun hadn’t peeked over the horizon just yet, the sky was brightening. Opening the fridge, he scanned the half-empty shelves, looking for eggs. Although he’d prefer to cook more often, the demands of life prevented him from doing it often, and so the fullness of his fridge was an erratic thing.

Luckily, it looked like Bucky had everything for eggs, bacon and toast. He even found some frozen muffins in the freezer. Bucky was just finishing up with the eggs when Steve walked into the kitchen drying his hair with a towel and wearing a pair of Bucky’s sweatpants. His torso was wrapped in a t-shirt that looked a size too small, by the way it clung to every curve of Steve’s muscle, and the sight stirred interest in Bucky’s pants.

“Perfect timing!” Bucky said as he split up the scrambled eggs between two plates. “I know it’s not much but it’s all I had on hand. Want something to drink? I have juice and milk, and coffee’s brewing.”

Steve just stood there by the counter looking at a loss.

“Here,” Bucky said, sliding a plate in front of Steve with a fork. “Cups are there,” he said, pointing to the left. “You can start without me; I’m just going to grab a shower.”

If it hadn’t been creepy, and if he didn’t have to leave for work soon, Bucky would have totally taken the time to jerk off in the shower, but as it was, he just had enough time to wash off the residue of the previous night’s activities. The hot water was very welcome, and he relished it while he could.

Throwing on a fresh pair of underwear and a white undershirt, Bucky returned to the kitchen. Bucky exited the bedroom to find Steve with all his things gathered and heading for the door.

“Oh. You’re going?” Bucky said, trying to hide his disappointment. All of a sudden, Bucky felt self-conscious. He’d done one-night stands before, and he knew sometimes his bed partner didn’t like sticking around in the mornings, but he was hoping that Steve wouldn’t be one of those. He’d honestly enjoyed the man’s company at dinner the night before.

“I don’t want to be in your way,” Steve said, a blush creeping up his neck and onto his face.

“It’s no trouble,” Bucky said, trying to sound casual and not eager. “If you need to go, I can call you a cab, but you’re welcome to stay until I have to get going to work in an hour. We can catch a cab together and I can drop you wherever you’re going?” he offered.

Steve didn’t reply immediately, and he looked conflicted.

“Honestly, it’s not a problem.”

“Okay,” Steve said, dropping his things by the door. He still seemed a bit tense as he followed Bucky back into the kitchen.

Bucky grabbed his pate of food, and noticed that Steve had only eaten half of his. Grabbing a cup and filling it with coffee, Bucky started breakfast.

“So, are you on summer break or are you taking some classes?” Bucky asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

“I... uh, yeah. I’m trying to get ahead on some of my requirement, so I’m taking two classes. I’ve got one later in the morning, and then I have a shift at the restaurant.” Steve said, picking up his fork.

“Which classes are you taking?”

Bucky spent the rest of breakfast listening to Steve talk about his classes. He was still a bit cagey at first, and it took some time for him to open up – just like the night before – but Bucky could tell that art was Steve’s passion just from the way he grew animated as he described his classes and various art projects.

When they finished eating, Bucky dumped their dishes in the dishwasher and went to change into his work clothes. With prompting, Steve followed him and sat on the bed while he put on his suit so they could continue their conversation. It was an enjoyable way to spend the morning, and as they got into a cab together, Bucky hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time. The ride was considerably less awkward than the one before, and Bucky took it as a good sign.

Steve planned to go back to his apartment before heading to class, and they agreed on letting him off at a subway station on Bucky’s route to work. When the cab pulled over, Steve gathered his things.

“Hey,” Bucky said softly, putting a hand on Steve’s arm.

Steve paused, turning back to look at him, and once more Bucky was stricken by the colour of his eyes.

“I had a good time last night.”

“I did to,” Steve said with a small smile.

“Good. That’s, uh, that’s good. Maybe we can do it again soon?” he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Steve’s smile grew wider. “Yeah. I’d... I’d like that.”

“Awesome. I’ll text you?”

“I’ll be waiting,” Steve said, before getting out.

As the cab pulled away from the curb, Bucky watched Steve disappear into the subway station, already unable to wait until the next time.

-8-

Bucky texted Steve at the end of that weekend. He’d found an Italian place uptown that did fire-roasted pizzas, and he was eager to try it out. It took a bit to find a night that worked for both of them, but they managed. The night went pretty smoothly, and Bucky enjoyed every minute of it. They spent almost two hours at the restaurant talking and enjoying good food, and then went back to Bucky’s place for a night full of incredible sex.

After that, it kind of turned into a routine. They’d set up a date night, go for dinner, and then head back to Bucky’s place for wild passionate sex. Bucky tried to meet up with Steve at least once or twice a week, as their schedules allowed.

A couple weeks into their... thing, Bucky invited Steve to be his plus-one at a charity gala. Steve had expressed concerns about not having anything suitable to wear (the ill-fitting suit came to Bucky’s mind) and so Bucky had taken Steve to his tailor and had a three-piece suit made to his measurements.

“There’s nothing like a suit that fits you like a glove,” Bucky had said during Steve’s fitting.

Bucky ended up buying Steve three suits, in varying colours and styles, so that he would have something to choose from. Steve was grateful and although he seemed embarrassed to have received so much of Bucky’s attention, the look on his face was something Bucky wanted to put there more often.

After that, the gifts kind of became a regular thing. Every time they met, Bucky would have a something for Steve. Sometimes it was a big and expensive gift, like jewelry, and other times, it was something small, like a new set of acrylics when Steve offhandedly mentioned that he was running low.

When September rolled around, Steve started classes again and it became harder for them to find nights when their schedules aligned. Bucky found himself missing Steve’s company. He had grown to really enjoy spending time with the younger man. Steve was witty and smart, and Bucky loved his sense of humour. Steve was also a genuinely nice person, and the more Bucky got to know him, the more and more he liked Steve for who he was. Steve was noble in many ways that was rare to find in people (at least, the people that Bucky had bet in his life), and it showed in the way Steve treated the people around him.

-8-

Bucky sighed as he gathered his papers and notes. The meeting about their newest client portfolio had been too long and full of too many issues. It was going to take a lot of work from everyone on the team if they were going to sort it out, and Bucky was not pleased. Shoving the stack of papers into his folder, Bucky pushed back his chair. His co-workers were all doing the same, and the meeting room was slowly emptying of people. As he stepped into the hall, Bucky slipped his phone from his pocket to check his messages.

There were a couple of email notifications, a text from Natasha from her business meeting in Merlin, and a notification reminding him about his plans with Steve that evening. Bucky had been looking forward to seeing Steve all week, and with the work day almost done, he was getting excited.

Bucky slid his phone back into his pocket as he entered his office. After sorting and filing away his folders and notes from the meeting, Bucky spent the rest of the afternoon working on the new client portfolio and coordinating with the rest of the people on the project. By the time he finished, Bucky was satisfied with his progress and itching to get out of the office.

The ride the restaurant where they were meeting wasn’t long, and shortly, Bucky was sitting at a table for two in a low-key yet fashionable dining room. This particular restaurant was run by a chef from Romania, and the menu was populated by reinventions of classic Romanian dishes.

Steve arrived soon after. He was dressed in a nice cream button up and a pair of khakis; it was simple, but he looked good. Very good. (Then again, Steve looked good in almost anything he wore).

Bucky couldn’t help smiling as Steve took his seat. “Hey.”

“Hey Bucky,” Steve said.

As Bucky poured Steve a glass of wine, he took a moment to look over Steve up close. While he looked clean shaved and well put together, Bucky couldn’t help but get the feeling that there was something off about Steve. He didn’t know what he felt like there wasn’t something quite right, but he got the feeling anyway. Upon inspection, Bucky noticed that there were heavy bags under Steve’s eyes, and his smile appeared strained at the corners.

“How’s it going?” Bucky asked.

Steve shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

“Yeah? Everything alright?”

Steve simply nodded, and didn’t seem interested in elaborating, so Bucky decided against pushing the issue. As they looked over the menu and waited for their server to take their orders, Bucky noticed that Steve has less energy than he usually did, and his usually impeccable posture was slouching.

Steve asked Bucky about his day, and he seemed content to sit, eat, and listen to Bucky talk about the endless meetings and reports that he’d been dealing with.

“...so we have to completely start from square one; literally six months of work down the drain and everyone’s just so frustrated.”

Steve nodded. “That really sucks.”

Bucky exhaled loudly. “Totally,” he said, putting down his fork with a clatter. “But enough about me; you’ve been quiet tonight.”

Steve shrugged again, picking at his food.

“How’d your project for your visual media class go? That was due today, right?”

A surprised look came over Steve’s face. “I... yeah, that was due today.” Steve put his fork down and rubbed the back of his neck, looking to the side. “It was kind of a grind, but I managed to finish it in time.”

“Yeah? Sorry to hear it was so hard, but I’m glad that you pulled it off,” Bucky said with an encouraging smile.

Steve looked up through his eyelashes. “Thanks. I... uh... kind of had to pull an all-nighter to accomplish it, and it’d definitely not my best work, but it’s done.”

All-nighter! Bingo! “Jeez, no wonder you look so exhausted!”

Steve blushed. “I... yeah. I’m pretty beat.”

“You should have said something; we could have re-scheduled.”

“No, it’s no big deal; I’m a little tired, but it’s honestly not that bad. I had a nap after class and I think I’ll be fine.”

Bucky huffed. He couldn’t remember the last time he pull and all-nighter with no consequences; he definitely wasn’t as young as he used to be, that’s for sure. “Alright, if you say so,” Bucky said, eyeing Steve critically.

Steve laughed and picked up his fork. “Yeah Buck, I’m fine,” he said with a soft laugh.

After that, Steve seemed to have loosened a bit. Bucky thought he looked super cute when he was sleepy like that. Bucky made their dessert to-go, so Steve wouldn’t have to be out in public for any longer than he needed to.

When the stepped onto the street, Bucky turned to Steve. “If you’re too tired, I can call a cab to get you home. You should probably head to bed and get a good night’s sleep.”

Steve shook his head vigorously. “No, no it’s fine, we can head back to your place,” he said, stepping closer so that their chests were touching and their faces were inches apart.

Bucky loved looking at Steve up close and personal like this. He loved the intimacy of staring into his eyes, mapping the lines of his face, tracing the curve of his lips – everything about Steve was just mesmerizing.

“You’re sure?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, of course.”

They flagged down a cab without too much trouble. The journey back was quick, and it passed in silence. Bucky could tell that Steve was on the verge of passing out, and as the cab weaved through the city blocks, Bucky couldn’t help but wonder why Steve had agreed to come over if he was this tired.

Did Steve feel like he had an obligation to Bucky? That he owed Bucky sex because Bucky bought him dinner and nice things? Or was it because he wanted to spend time with Bucky?

He knew he should just ask Steve; he knew that they should probably talk about what they were doing and what they meant to each other, but truth be told, Bucky was kind of scared. This had turned into something much more than Bucky was expecting, and in the event that this was just some sort of casual fling for Steve, he didn’t want to ruin what they had going by bringing his feelings into the mix.

As he watched the flashing lights of New York play across Steve’s face and heavy eyelids, Bucky couldn’t help but feel something stirring in his chest.

Soon, they arrived at Bucky’s apartment, and the moment their shoes had been removed, Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist and pulled him close. Bucky felt a familiar fluttering feeling inside – one that was becoming more and more pronounced the more time he spent with Steve – and leaned up for a soft kiss.

Steve seemed to melt into Bucky’s arms, and Bucky was very content to stand in his foyer with this gorgeous man and do nothing but kiss. He could quite honestly admit that in the last couple of months, he’d become quite addicted to Steve’s... well... everything.

Although Bucky wanted to take his time, Steve seemed to be filled with a passion that surprised Bucky, considering his state of exhaustion. Steve nipped at Bucky’s lips and tongue, licking into his mouth with fervor.

Bucky’s hands tightened in Steve’s clothes and tried to reign in kiss, enjoying the warmth of Steve’s body, the firmness of his muscles, the sound of his breathing, and everything in the moment. He wanted to savour the taste of Steve’s mouth and Steve’s utterly intoxicating scent. Bucky’s eyes fluttered closed, and in the darkness, they kissed until both were hard of breathing.

When they broke for air, Bucky’s eyes flickered over Steve’s face. In the dim glow of the city lights, Bucky could see that he was slightly flushed, but there were still deep bags under his eyes and a tiredness that was hard to hide.

Wordlessly, Bucky took Steve’s hands in his own and steered him gently to the bedroom. He knew that Steve was probably too tired for their usual marathon of sex, and it would probably be best for him to go straight to sleep, but Bucky also knew from experience that Steve was quite stubborn and wouldn’t take kindly to being ordered to bed; Bucky would have to be strategic about this.

The plan: give Steve the blowjob of his life and then make out until Steve lost consciousness.

-8-

All in all, it hadn’t taken long before Steve has fallen asleep.

Setting down his papers, Bucky stretched, causing his night shirt to ride up as he did so. Yawning, Bucky took a sip of water from the glass on his nightstand. After Steve had passed out, Bucky had grabbed some of the legal documents to review in the comfort of bed, and had spent the last hour doing so.

Steve was out cold in beside him, his breathing deep and even. Steve didn’t move much in his sleep, but after Bucky had settled into the pillows with his paperwork, Steve had rolled over and curled into Bucky’s side, his face pressed into Bucky’s thigh.

Bucky smiled. Reaching over, he gently brushed some of Steve’s fine blonde hair out of his face. The fluttering feeling returned for a brief moment, and in the safety of the quiet darkness, Bucky let that feeling linger.

Another yawn escaped Bucky. Time for bed, he supposed.

-8-

Late summer gave way to autumn, and as the temperature dropped and the leaves turned colours, Bucky and Steve continued to see each other. It was getting harder and harder for Bucky to deny the fact that he had more than just a crush on Steve, but he was still anxious to broach the topic. Steve had, in a few short months, become one of the best things in Bucky’s life, and Bucky just wasn’t ready to hear that Steve didn’t feel the same way.

So Bucky continued to take Steve out for dinner, buy him gifts, and have sex. And nothing else.

-8-

Bucky had just finished up a lunch meeting with a client and was on the way back to the office when his phone buzzed with a text notification. Looking at his screen, Bucky was surprised to find that it was from Steve.

Steve (3:23pm)  
Hey Bucky, I just got a call from work. Sitwell bailed again and they need me to come in tomorrow to fill his shift, so I’m afraid we’ll have to cancel our plans tonight =( Maybe we can reschedule?

Disappointment pooled in Bucky gut. It had taken him over a month to get this reservation – an extremely fancy restaurant with a critically acclaimed menu and award winning chef, and both he and Steve had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Bucky bit his lip. This wasn’t the first time they’d had to reschedule because Steve’s work called him in for a last-minute shift, and normally it wasn’t a problem to reschedule their... date (Was it a date? A fling?) but this time, Bucky was hesitant.

Bucky (4:47pm)  
Can they get anyone else to cover the shift?

Banking on the off-chance that Steve could get someone else to cover the shift, Bucky pocketed his phone. He was waiting for the elevator when he got a reply.

Steve (5:02pm)  
I tried but everyone else is busy. I’m really sorry Buck, I was really looking forward to this.

Bucky (5:02pm)  
Me too. Would it be possible to just not accept the shift?

Steve (5:03pm)  
Technically, yes, but I’d probably be fired if I did. I don’t think the manager likes me very much... but I need this job.

Bucky sighed.

Steve was right. His manager was kind of an asshole and he was treated so poorly at work, but Steve needed the money for his tuition, and this gig paid well. Steve had never said anything about it out loud to Bucky, but he could tell that Steve struggled every month to make enough to cover rent and save up enough for tuition. He had thankfully gotten a couple of scholarships, but college was quite expensive, and it was a huge financial burden. Between classes and trying to make ends meet, Steve was being worked to the bone and it made Bucky’s chest ache to watch it happening.

Bucky (5:10pm)  
Would you be able to leave the restaurant if your tuition was covered? That’s your biggest expense, right?

Steve (5:14pm)  
What? Why?

Bucky (5:15pm)  
If I paid your tuition, you wouldn’t need to work yourself into the ground. You could quit the restaurant tonight and we could still make dinner.

Bucky (5:15pm)  
Do you know how much it is for this term? I can write you a check or wire the money to you. Actually, do you have the amount for the whole year? It might be easier to cover it in one payment.

Bucky bit his lip and re-read the message he had just sent, hoping he hadn’t crossed a line. He knew that it wouldn’t be a trivial amount of money, not by a long shot, but Bucky had plenty of money to spare, and he was more than happy to use his funds to help Steve in any way that he could.

He’d just arrived in his office when Bucky’s phone started ringing.

Steve was calling him.

“Hey Steve.”

“Bucky you can’t be serious.”

Closing the door to his office, Bucky leaned against the wall. “I am 100% serious.”

Steve voice sounded strained. “I-I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?”

“Do you even know how much tuition to NYU is?!”

“Should be less than a hundred grand per year right?”

Steve made a strangled sound.

“Steve, don’t worry about it. I’m honestly and seriously offering to cover your tuition. You work so hard and I know that it hasn’t been easy for you. I know that you know I have the money; it won’t be like I’m hurting for cash or anything. I want to help.”

There was silence on the line, and Bucky counted six heartbeats before Steve answered. “I- are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive.”

“I- okay.”

Bucky silently cheered; part of him honestly didn’t think that Steve would accept. “Awesome!”

“I... I don’t know what this year’s amount is... I-I have to look it up.”

“That’s okay. We can talk about the details at dinner tonight.” Bucky was already grinning from ear to ear just thinking about it.

“Okay.” There was a beat of silence, and then, “Thank you, Buck.” Steve’s voice was soft. “I... thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s my pleasure,” Bucky said, and hoped that Steve could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“You are totally getting the rim job of your life when we get back to your place tonight. I know how much you like it when I eat you out.”

Bucky barked out a laugh. “Deal!”

-8-

When Bucky arrived at the restaurant, he was just buzzing with the excitement of seeing Steve again. When he gave his name to the host, he was surprised to discover that Steve had already arrived. As he was led through the dining room, Bucky couldn’t help the fluttering in his stomach. As soon as Steve had agreed to let Bucky pay for his tuition, Bucky knew that it was the right thing to do; there was just something about the whole thing that screamed ‘YES’.

Bucky saw Steve first and he almost cried at the sight. Steve had worn one of the suits that Bucky had bought for him. It was dark grey in colour, and the fine Italian cloth clung to Steve’s broad chest and delicious biceps in a way that made Bucky swoon. Steve had paired it with a muted green shirt and a patterned tie (both also gifts from Bucky) that accentuated Steve’s complexion and brought out the colour of his eyes.

Steve was sitting stiffly in his chair, one hand anxiously smoothing down his hair and the other gripping the stem of his half-filled wine glass. In that moment, Bucky was overwhelmed with emotion. The fact that Bucky got to have dinner (and amazing sex) with this amazing young man would never cease to amaze him.

A few paces away from the table, Steve looked up and their eyes locked. Time seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second, a spell cast over them both, and in that moment, Bucky’s heart skipped a beat; they were the only two people who existed in the entire universe. The spell shattered in the next moment, and a nervous smile bloomed across Steve’s features.

“Bucky!” Steve said, standing.

“Steve,” Bucky said with a smile, and drew the other man into a quick embrace. “It’s good to see you,” he said as they took their seats.

“I- yes, it’s good to see you too.” After the waiter had finished pouring Bucky a glass of wine and left, Steve leaned forward over the table. “Bucky, thank you again for... you didn’t have to... I mean... I just... wanted to thank you.”

Steve’s awkwardness was endearing, and Bucky couldn’t help but beam. “Steve,” he said, reaching across the table to brush his fingers over the back of Steve’s hand. “That’s probably the fifth time you’ve said that today. You’re welcome, and I’m happy to help you. And that better be the last time I hear you thank me tonight.”

“Okay.”

“So, how was your day? Besides quitting without notice, I mean.”

Steve laughed. “Other than that? Completely uneventful.”

“Oh? Then quitting was the most exciting part of your day?” Bucky said with a raised eyebrow.

“Up until now? Definitely. You should have heard Schmidt when I called!” Steve immediately launched into the story with an almost word-by-word account of the conversation. His entire body seemed to light up, and he was so enthusiastic, and Bucky loved every fucking minute of it.

-8-

Fall quickly blended into winter, and the rich colours of red and orange autumn leaves faded, giving way to the cold brisk New York November air.

Bucky breathed in deeply, and the crisp evening air penetrated his lungs with pleasant iciness. With his hands stuffed into the pockets of his heavy cotton pea coat, the cold didn’t bother Bucky much. It was twilight, and the sky was glowing softly in shades of lavender and pink. The paved path beneath his polished leather shoes cut through the swath of barren trees ahead, leading the way over the next hill and down to the lake.

Beside him, touching shoulder to shoulder, Steve shivered.

“Cold?” Bucky asked, turning to Steve. In the approaching darkness, Steve’s complexion was shadowed, but no less beautiful. Against the dying light of the horizon, the sharp angles of Steve’s cheekbones and jaw were accentuated.

“No,” Steve said, fiddling with his gloves. He was wearing the black wool jacket that Bucky had gotten him as a present when the weather started turning, right around Halloween. It made Bucky happy whenever he saw Steve wearing the things Bucky had bought him. After nearly six months, Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if half of Steve’s wardrobe consisted of gifts from Bucky. “How much further is this place?”

“Not much further,” Bucky said.

They continued through Central Park in comfortable silence. The park was rather empty, it being a Tuesday evening in the middle of November, and the two of them had the entire path to themselves. Bucky had made reservations at the restaurant inside the park, right on the edge of the lake. It had a great view of the park from across the water, and the food was quite good.

“How’s school?” Bucky asked a few minutes later. “Your classes are wrapping up for the semester?”

Steve hummed in response. “Yeah, mostly.”

“You got exams?”

“Not really,” Steve said, his eyes glued to the scenery ahead of them. “Lots of term projects though. I have a few paintings I need to finish, and some other pieces for my digital media course.”

“Don’t leave it to the last minute like last time.”

Steve snorted, a puff of mist forming in front of his face. “I won’t.”

“Good. You’re not always gonna be young, and I don’t want you in the habit of binging the whole thing the night before the due date.”

“Yeah, yeah old man,” Steve said, turning to Bucky with a teasing smile.

Bucky was curious about what kind of things Steve was making for his classes – he’d seen a few pictures of some of the pieces Steve had done previously, but Steve had never offered to show Bucky what he was working on. He’s learned that Steve was quite protective of his art, and Bucky didn’t want to be pushy about it.

Soon, the light of the restaurant could be seen ahead, a beacon of light shining through the shroud of night that had fallen. The dining area was one long hall situated right on the water’s edge. A row of columns supported the roof on the far side, giving a wide sweeping view of the lake as the last vestiges of light faded. They were seated right next to the delicate iron wrought fence, the lake just an arm’s length away.

As soon as they were seated, Steve sighed. “I’d love to paint this,” he said, his gaze cast over the skyline.

“You should do it,” Bucky said. While Steve was distracted by the view, Bucky took the opportunity to watch Steve. He loved stealing glances of his companion when Steve wasn’t paying attention.

“It would be hard to do from memory,” Steve lamented. “And I don’t know if I’d have the time for it right now, with all the other projects I have going on.”

“We can always come back. Take some photos maybe, as reference.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” Steve finally tore his eyes away from the deep blue and violet colours, and Bucky smiled as their eyes met.

By the time appetizers arrived, the stars were visible above the glimmering lights of the city.

“So, Riley is visit for the week, which is a shame since I’ve been spending so much time at the art studio on campus,” Steve said between bites grilled octopus. “But on the other hand, it’s kind of a blessing in disguise, since he’s staying with us until he ships out again, and I can only hear so much of his and Sam’s sex life before wanting to cut my ears off.”

Bucky laughed heartily, dropping a piece of his crab cake in the process. “Well, isn’t an ear the price to pay for good art or something?”

Steve gave Bucky a pointed look.

“What? No Van Gough jokes?”

“That was a terrible joke,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. “Anyways, they’ve been going at it like rabbits all week and it’s kind of driving me insane.”

“I find it funny that you’re complaining about the loudness of others when you yourself are extremely vocal in bed. I’m willing to bet that Riley and Sam aren't nearly as loud as you are,” Bucky said with a smirk.

Steve, true to form, turned bright scarlet. “I’m not that loud!” he sputtered.

Bucky just laughed in response.

“Okay fine, I might be loud in bed, but at least when we’re together, there aren't any roommates and there isn’t anyone else on the other side of wall to hear us,” he grumbled, stabbing another piece of octopus.

“I guess that’s true,” Bucky said.

"And..." Steve continued, lowering his voice to barely a whisper, "I never used to be that loud to begin with."  
  
Bucky raised a questioning eyebrow. "Oh? I must be doing something right then."  
  
Steve didn't reply, but but his blush continued to deepen, which told Bucky that he'd hit the nail on the head. Truth be told, Bucky _loved_ that Steve was vocal in bed. Bucky was very attracted to Steve's voice, and wide range of noises that Steve made when he was coming undone was a huge turn-on.

Giving Steve’s foot a light kick under the table to get his attention again, Bucky said, “Well, if you ever want a peaceful night’s sleep, you can always just stay at my place.”

Steve looked up. “What?”

“You’re already in my bed at least once a week anyways,” Bucky said with a casual shrug.

Steve blush deepened. “Thanks, but I think I should be good. Riley’s leave ends in a couple days anyways, so the apartment will be quiet again soon. I mean, as quiet as it can get with two college guys in a small space.”

Bucky laughed. “Well, the offer still stands if you ever change your mind.”

“How do I get the feeling that you’re just trying to get more action?” he said, smirking.

Honestly, that hadn’t been the main reason why Bucky had offered, and he wondered if Steve knew that. “Well, if your presence just _happens_ to result in more sex, I'm not complaining. And are you saying that you can’t keep up with me?”

“Ha, you wish, old man. I’m young and virile and you should be the one having trouble keeping up with me!”

“Is that a challenge?” Bucky said, raising one eyebrow.

“Maybe it is,” Steve said casually.

“Oh, it’s on Rogers. Think you can outlast me?” Bucky asked, bringing his wine glass to his lips. “We’ll see who taps out first tonight,” he said with a glint in his eye.

-8-

“Okay, okay, Bucky, you win,” Steve panted later that night, his whole chest and face flushed crimson with exertion. “Oh god,” he groaned, gasping for breath.

“I... I think,” Bucky puffed, “I think we both lose this one.”

“Chafing?” Steve asked.

“Chafing,” Bucky confirmed with a wince. Resting his head in the dip between Steve’s shoulder blades, Bucky tried to catch his breath. His sweat slicked skin feeling slippery and hot, which was only amplified by the fact that Steve was a human furnace and radiated heat like the sun in the middle of July. He could feel Steve’s body trembling from exhaustion beneath him.

“Jeez,” Steve said as he collapsed onto the sheets. “Let’s not do this many rounds at once ever again.”

Bucky had to agree.

-8-

Steve was fidgeting with the collar of his freshly pressed suit, his fingers adjusting and re-adjusting the tie knot for the seventh time since getting into the cab.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, looking over.

“Yeah,” Steve said, wincing. “I just can’t get this to sit right,” he said with frustration.

“Here, let me,” Bucky said, gently brushing Steve hands away from his neck. Resigning himself to Bucky’s case, Steve tipped his head back to give Bucky more room to work with. Gently, Bucky rearranged the knot; Steve had pulled it a fraction too tight and it was sitting a bit too high on his throat. “There,” Bucky said, smoothing down Steve’s shirt collar, the tips of his fingers brushing Steve’s pale skin ever so slightly in the process.

Steve swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Thanks, Buck,” he said quietly.

“No problem,” Bucky said with a smile.

“This is, uh, kind of my first time at a concert,” Steve admitted.

“I’m not surprised,” Bucky said with a small chuckle. “Not many young people are interested in going to the orchestra for classical music.”

“Well, there’s that, but I also mean, like, in general.”

“Wait really?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Never been before.”

“Not even to, like, a rock or pop concert?”

Steve shrugged, turning forward to look forward. “We never really could afford something like that,” he said.

“Oh.” Bucky never really forgot that Steve had always struggled to meet ends meet, but the more time they spent together, the more Bucky realized that there were a lot of things that he took for granted or assumed that everyone had growing up that simply wasn’t true. Bucky himself didn’t come from a particularly well-to-do family – he grew up in a middle class family, where both his parents worked. There were so many aspects of his life that were different from Steve’s, and it surprised him a bit. Bucky would also be lying if he said that it didn’t bother him.

“Well, I hope you have fun. They’re doing a couple of Chopin pieces tonight that are really nice, but if this isn’t really your thing, just let me know and we can leave early.”

“No, that’s okay,” Steve protested. “You spent so much on tickets and it would be such a waste to leave early.”

“It won’t be worth it if you’re not having a good time though, Steve.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. Well, the most important thing to remember about these classical concerts is not to clap between the movements.”

Steve smiled. “Oh yeah?”

Bucky nodded. “Definitely. You immediately brand yourself as a newbie and a pleb if you do.”

Steve laughed loudly. “I’ll try to remember that,” he said, happiness glinting in his eyes.

They arrived at the Geffen hall shortly, and in the late November evening, the square building was illuminated in an almost blinding halo of golden lights. The entire front face was made of glass, giving them a view of cream-and-white decorated interior.

“Wow,” Steve breathed as he stepped out of the cab.

Bucky smiled. “Nice, isn’t it?”

“It’s gorgeous,” Steve said, slightly in awe.

“Come on,” Bucky said, taking Steve by the hand.

The foyer was filled with people dressed in suits and expensive cocktail dresses sipping drinks from tall crystal glasses. Bucky didn’t come to see the New York Philharmonic Orchestra often, but it was always a little bit magical whenever he did.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked. They’d shared a bottle of wine at dinner, but he offered anyways.

“No, that’s okay. I’m so full,” Steve said. “Should we find our seats?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, the concert doesn’t start for another twenty minutes. We can have a look around first, since this is your first time here.” Bucky knew next to nothing about architecture, but he knew that Steve had taken an intro to architecture course earlier in his degree and sometimes liked the paint urban landscapes, so he might appreciate the chance to explore the building.

They spent the next ten minutes wandering up and down the hall. Bucky was about to suggest heading into main auditorium when someone called out to him.

“James!”

Bucky turned towards the voice and immediately spotted a cascade of red hair. Natasha was dressed in a stunning champagne dress that sparkled in the warm lighting. A pair of golden high heels adorned her feet, and her look was finished with a puffy faux fur shawl that made it look like her shoulders were wrapped in a cloud.

“What a coincidence,” Natasha said with a predatory grin. Her fingers were curled around a glass of sparkling ice wine, her golden nail polish shining against the fine crystal.

“Nat,” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes. He very much doubted her appearance was a coincidence, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how she knew he would be here. “I didn’t know you were in the country. I thought you were in Milan.”

“I was,” Nat said as they shared a short hug, her smile widening. “An unexpected business opportunity came up.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I’m actually working right now, so I won’t be able to chat for long.”

“Oh. I see. Well, I hope whatever it is goes well.”

Natasha smiled. “Thank you. I see that you’re not alone, for once,” she said, turning to Steve, who was blushing slightly. “Have we met?” She said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Er, Nat, you might remember Steve? You, um, kind of introduced us? Steve, this is Natasha; she’s an old friend of mine.”

“A pleasure to meet you, officially,” Steve said as they shook hands.

“The pleasure is all mine, Steve.”

Steve, for all he was worth, was admirably not squirming under Nat’s piercing gaze (Bucky swore that Nat could cut diamonds with that gaze).

“I haven’t seen you in ages, James. We should really catch up some time.”

“You’re never Stateside, Nat,” Bucky said with an eyeroll.

“Details,” Nat said, waving her free hand dismissingly. “You know, you could always come meet me in Europe. London, Paris, Geneva, Brussels, Prague, Budapest, Amsterdam, Rome, Venice... just pick one,” she said, smiling sweetly.

“You know I don’t travel much,” Bucky sighed.

“Despite your love for travel? Yes, I know. You once spent two hours fantasizing about the cherry blossom festival in Kyoto, and those are two hours of my life I will never get back.”

“Naaat,” Bucky whined.

Natasha merely shrugged. “Like I said. You should get out of the city more.” She glanced behind her. “Anyways, I should go.”

Bucky sighed. “Alright,” he said, leaning in for a farewell hug, and Nat gave him a cordial peck on the cheek.

“I’ll see you soon. It was good to meet you again, Steve,” she said, and pulled him into a short hug, pecking his cheek as well. “You boys enjoy your evening, yes?”

“You too, Nat,” Bucky said as she disappeared into the crowd. He sighed. “Sorry about that, Steve. Nat’s kind of... a lot.”

Steve chuckled. “That’s an understatement. But she’s nice, in a terrifying sort of way.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it. We should find our seats,” Bucky said, turning towards the audience hall.

“So,” Steve said, falling into step beside him. “James?”

Bucky heaved another sigh. “She insists on using my first name, despite being a close friend.”

“Not everyone calls you Bucky?”

“No. Very few people do, actually. I mostly go by James.”

Bucky was concentrating so hard on navigating through the crowd of people that he missed the slightly stunned look on Steve’s face. The narrow hall leading from the foyer into the auditorium was crowded, everyone eager to find their places before the performance began. At the mouth of the tunnel, the grand performance theater opened up into a massive room. The chairs and floor were carpeted in plush red velvet, and the walls and ceilings were ornately decorated with gold filigree and classical-style paintings.  
  
"Nat's quite the character," Steve said as they got directions to their seats from a nearby valet.  
  
"Ha ha, you can say that again," Bucky said as they made their way up the aisle towards their row. "I'd say her bark is worse than her bite, but I've seen what she can do when she'd cornered and it's not pretty."  
  
"I feel like there's a story behind that statement," Steve said with a chuckle.  
  
"Yes, there is. I'll have to tell you about the disaster with Red Room Industries sometime."  
  
Eventually, they found their seats, and the five-minute-to-curtain chimed softly as they sat down.

“I didn’t know you like to travel,” Steve said, looking over at Bucky.

“I do,” Bucky replied. On stage, the musicians were milling about. Some were in their places, tuning their instruments or organizing their sheets of music while others were standing in small groups chatting. “I used to do it a lot, but I haven’t been out of the country in a long time.”

“Why not?”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t like going alone. It’s not the same. Don’t get me wrong, I still love the sense of discovery when you get to explore a new city or country, but it’s so much better when you have good company, you know?”

Steve hummed. “You could go with friends?”

“Nat suggested the same thing, but... I don’t know. Traveling with people is kind of really intimate, and... I don't know if any of my friends would be suitable for that kind of experience. Visiting other countries and learning about different cultures can be a life-changing thing; it's really personal and... I guess I’m just waiting for the right person with which to share that.”  
  
Steve nodded. "That makes sense." He was about to say more, but at that moment, an announcer’s voice spoke out over the room, and the lights dimmed. Steve’s attention was drawn to the stage, where the conductor was taking his place amidst the applause.

As the first notes of the music rang out over the audience, Bucky looked over to Steve. He watching as the young man looked on in awe as the opening melody washed over them like a rolling mist on the ocean in late autumn, and his heart skipped.

-8-

Stretching in his office chair, Bucky looked at the clock hanging on the wall, and was surprised at the time. He’d been working on a contract for the last couple of hours, and he thought he wasn’t making much progress, but it looked like he finished earlier than he expected.

Saving the document on his computer, Bucky pulled out his phone.

Bucky (5:32pm)  
Hey Steve, I finished a bit earlier than expected today. Do you want to meet up before dinner? We could check out that art gallery on 12th that you were talking about before our reservations.

Putting his phone down, Bucky began packing up. Even if Steve wasn’t free to meet up early, he wasn’t about to stay at the office later than he needed. In the event that Steve was busy, there were a couple of things Bucky could do to fill his time; a list of errands was already forming in his mind.

Just as Bucky was closing his work bag, his phone chimed with a text notification.

Steve (5:38pm)  
Oh that would be great! I just finished up in the studio and I’m on the way back to my apartment. I just need to grab a quick shower and change and we can head out.

Bucky (5:38pm)  
Okay no problem. I can meet you at your apartment, since it’s on the way for me.

Steve (5:39pm)  
Okay sure.

Grabbing his things, Bucky quickly locked up his office and hailed a cab. Bucky had met Steve at his apartment several times on the way to their dinner plans before, but he’d never actually been inside. He knew that Steve rented a small space his Sam, his best friend, but every time that he’d been there, Steve had already been ready to go and waiting for him on the curb.

It took the better part of an hour to get to Steve’s apartment. Steve buzzed him up, and greeted Bucky at the door.

“Hey Buck,” Steve said. He was wearing an undershirt and a pair of badly stained jeans that clung deliciously low on his hips. “Sorry, I was literally just about to jump into the shower. Come in, welcome,” he said, stepping aside.

Bucky entered the small living space, looking around as he did. It wasn’t a pigsty by any means, but it certainly wasn’t sparkling clean either. On the far end of the room was a kitchenette with a stove and some essentials, but looked cramped. Used pots and pans sat on the stove top and dishes threatened to spill out of the sink and onto the counter. The living room was barely large enough for a moldy brown couch and a coffee table and in the corner was a TV with a few older video game systems plugged into it.

“Sorry about the mess,” Steve said. “We haven’t really had time to clean up, it being close to finals and stuff. I promise it doesn’t look like a dump all the time.”

Bucky chuckled. “It’s okay. This is way cleaner than my dorm when I was in college.”

“I can’t imagine your living space as anything other than spotless,” Steve said. “Your apartment is always sparkling. Anyways, I’m just gonna quickly shower and get dressed and we can head out, yeah?”

“No problem, take your time.”

“Okay. Make yourself at home.”

Steve turned towards the door to the bathroom, peeling his shirt off as he walked away. Bucky silently cheered as he admired the incredible definition of Steve’s back muscles before the man disappeared behind the door. Soon after, the sounds of running water started up and Bucky was left standing in the middle of a foreign living room.

Looking around, Bucky realized that he was thirsty. Figuring that it wouldn’t be problem to grab a glass of water, Bucky shuffled over to the kitchenette. It took him a bit to find the cupboard with the glasses, but eventually he found it and filled it with some water from the tap.

Bucky was halfway through the glass when the sound of a key and the tumblers in the deadbolt turning caught his attention. Before he could react, the front door swung open, revealing the figure in the hall. The man trudged into the room, dropping his bags by the door as he toed off his shoes. He was wearing a pair of worn jeans and a weathered leather jacket. It was a moment before he noticed Bucky standing in the kitchen, awkwardly clutching a half full glass of water in his hand.

Immediately, the man narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked.

“James Barnes. You must be Sam; Steve’s told me a lot about you.”

Sam looked over Bucky skeptically, and Bucky wanted to fidget under the scrutiny. Finally, a look of realization crossed the man’s features. “Oh. _James_ , is it? So, you’re the new Sugar Daddy,” he said, and Bucky wasn’t sure if he was imagining the hostility in Sam’s tone. “I thought Steve might have been done after the last one.”

“Uh... It’s nice to meet you,” Bucky said, trying to deflect some of the tension.

“Okay pal, look,” Sam hissed, pointing a finger and advancing across the room.

Okay, hostility definitely not imagined.

“Listen up, cause I’m only gonna say this once.”

Bucky tensed. He really didn’t want to get into a fight, not while he was wearing an expensive outfit, and definitely not with Steve’s best friend and roommate, but if Bucky needed to defend himself, he would. When he was younger, Bucky got into a lot of fights, so he knew how to handle himself when fists started flying,.

“I don’t know what kind of... _arrangement_ you have with Steve and frankly, I don’t care. You better watch yourself, you got that?” Sam said, jabbing Bucky in the chest, “If you ever hurt Steve, I swear to god, ain’t nobody gonna ever find your body. My fiancé is in the air force, and I’m minoring in forensics; between the two of us, believe me when I say we know how to handle a problem. Got it?”

Bucky blinked. “I- yes?”

Sam gave him a stern look that rivaled Natasha’s. “Good. All you suits are the same – you think you can just walk all over people.” He took a step back, and at just that moment, the bathroom door opened, revealing a very wet looking Steve (Bucky’s pants definitely reacted) with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Sam! You’re back!”

Sam plastered on a wide smile. “Steve!” he said, turning to greet his roommate with wide open arms. “Hey man, you didn’t say you were bringing home your sugar daddy to meet me,” he said with a gap-toothed grin.

Steve groaned, blushing deeply as he slapped a hand over his face. “SAM! I-I didn’t think you’d be home this early.”

Sam laughed at Steve’s embarrassment. “Study group was a bit of a bust, so I left early,” he said as he gathered the bag that he’d set down earlier. “Everyone was behind on the review so I figured it would be more useful if I came home and studied here.”

“Okay. Well, uh, Bucky, this is Sam; Sam, Bucky,” Steve said, gesturing between them.

“Nice to meet you,” Sam said, turning to Bucky with what was an very clearly fake smile, which Steve couldn’t see from behind Sam.

“Uh, nice to meet you too,” Bucky said, his head still spinning from the death threat he’d just received.

“Well, I’ve got a hot date with my textbooks, so I’ll let you two sex addicts get to it,” he said, heading toward what Bucky assumed was his bedroom.

“Saaam!” Steve whined.

“Have fun in your sex dungeon,” Sam called as he shut the door behind him

Steve groaned as he approached Bucky, still only wearing a towel. “I’m sorry about Sam,” Steve said. “He’s highly inappropriate,” he continued with a raised voice. Sam’s muffled laugh could be heard through the closed door.

Bucky chuckled. “Not a problem. He’s an, um, interesting guy.”

“Sometimes I don’t know why we’re even friends,” Steve grumbled, but Bucky could tell that he didn’t mean it.

“As much as I love it when you’re not wearing any clothes,” Bucky said, racing a finger down Steve’s damp chest and giving his package a squeeze through the towel, “if you wanna get to the gallery before it closes, you should probably get changed.

Heat and desire sparked in Steve eyes, and he leaned down to steal a kiss from Bucky’s lips. “We don’t have time for a quick one before we go? You could help me give Sam a taste of his own medicine,” Steve said, his voice low.

“As much fun as that sounds, I feel like I should be the responsible adult and decline.”

Steve laughed. “Alright. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Shortly after, Steve emerged from his room dressed impeccably in a black suit and tie. It was a simple ensemble, but it looked so good on Steve’s incredibly photogenic body. The ride to the gallery wasn’t terribly long, and by the time they arrived, they had a good half hour to admire the paintings and photographs before they had to leave for dinner.

Steve was really impressed with the art, and he gave Bucky on ongoing commentary on each piece as they walked around. Normally, Bucky would have loved listening to Steve talk about art. He’d learned a lot from Steve over the past six months, and seeing Steve’s passions laid bare was so attractive to him, but tonight, Bucky was distracted.

Ever since they’d left the apartment, Sam’s threat had been sitting in the back of Bucky’s mind, stewing. There was something about what he’d said that was bothering him.

Okay, well, no, that was a lie. There were MULTIPLE things about Sam’s little speech that didn’t sit right, and Bucky couldn’t help but review the short conversation in his mind over and over. He knew he shouldn’t let himself get worked up over it – it was probably just Sam being over-protective of Steve, and he shouldn’t put too much stock in what was said, but...

Bucky couldn’t help but overanalyze it, and the whole thing was giving him a bad feeling. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the time.

“We should get going if we want to make our reservation,” Steve said, leading Bucky towards the doors. “Are you okay?” he asked Bucky hailed a cab.

“Hm? Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

Bucky nodded. “Yep. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Bucky tried to ignore the gnawing feeling that was growing in the pit of his stomach, but by the time their main course arrived, Bucky was starting to feel like he was being eaten alive from the inside out.

“Buck?” Steve’s soft voice cut through the turmoil in Bucky’s mind. “Something’s bothering you.”

“What? No, there’s nothing,” Bucky said, sitting up straighter in his seat.

Steve sighed. “You seem a bit... distracted tonight.”

Bucky tried to smile, and hoped it was convincing. “Sorry, I’m still thinking about something from work. Nothing important.”

“Okay,” Steve said, but his brow was creased and his lips were pulled into a slight frown.

The rest of the meal passed by in a blur for Bucky, and as he was paying the bill, he honestly couldn’t say that he remembered very much about what Steve had said all evening. As they climbed into another taxi, Bucky shook his head.

He needed to stop thinking about what Sam had said. He needed to just get it out of his mind, and some vigorous sex would definitely do the trick.

As soon as they stepped into the apartment, Bucky pinned Steve to the wall, licking his way into Steve mouth. Bucky relished the taste of Steve, letting his scent and his strong presence wash over him like a wave, wiping away the stain of anxiety that had been plaguing him all night. The kiss was deep, dirty, and aggressive, and it set Bucky’s skin on fire.

His eye fluttering closed, Bucky’s fingers found Steve’s tie, and then the buttons of his shirt. As he peeled away the layers of fabric, Bucky mapped Steve’s skin with his lips and teeth, marking the tantalizing pale flesh of his body.

They left a trail of clothes from the front door all the way to the foot of the bed. Pushing Steve down onto the soft sheets, Bucky crawled on top of the larger man, nipping at Steve’s neck and chest, his fingers grasping at hard muscle.

“Bucky,” Steve said, but Bucky was too far gone to hear him. Steve’s heady scent was like a drug, the taste of his sweat and skin so very electrifying, that Bucky couldn’t get enough. More... he needed to feel more of Steve, he needed -

“Bucky? W-Wait.”

He had one hand in Steve’s hair, pulling his head back to expose more throat for him to suck on; the other hand was shoved into Steve’s boxer-briefs, stroking his quickly growing -

“Bucky, stop.” A push. “R-Red light, Bucky! Stop!”

Stumbling back, Bucky felt like he had been slapped in the face, figuratively. His head reeling, Bucky moved back until he and Steve were no longer touching. Blinking in confusion, it took a minute before his surroundings came into focus.

Steve scooted to the edge of the bed and put his face in his hands, looking clearly distressed.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Fuck.” Panic was rising in Bucky over what he’d done. Completely without realizing it and without intending to, he’d crossed a line. “Oh my god, Steve, I’m so sorry! I-”

Steve held up a hand, and Bucky closed his mouth.

Frantically, Bucky mind went over everything that had happened since they’d entered the apartment, trying to figure out what exactly he’d done wrong. Mentally, he pictured the list of hard bedroom no’s they’d compiled early on in the relationship, and going through each item one by one, but halfway through the list, Bucky’s frazzled mind lost track and couldn’t remember what he’d already checked off and what he hadn’t.

Minutes ticked by in silence. Steve’s heavy breathing and the blood rushing through Bucky’s ears were the only sounds in the room.

“Can you get me some water?” Steve whispered, one hand still covering his face.

“Yes! Of course,” Bucky said, jumping up from the bed. As he rushed to the kitchen to fetch a glass, Bucky could feel his heart in his throat. He fumbled with the cupboards, momentarily having forgotten the entire layout of his kitchen. Finally, after having found the water glasses, Bucky poured water from his filter with a shaky hand.

When he returned, Bucky closed the bedroom door quietly. Steve was still sitting at the edge of the bed, his head still in his hand with his elbows on his knees. From here, Bucky could see Steve’s muscles tensing and relaxing.

“Here, Steve,” Bucky said softly, holding out the glass.

Steve accepted the water without looking up or saying anything, and took a long drag. When he was done, he set the glass on the floor.

“Steve?” Bucky asked, hovering by the door.

Steve finally looked up, and their eyes locked for a long moment before he sighed. “Bucky, what’s going on?”

“I don’t-”

“No, Bucky, cut the bullshit.”

The words knocked the wind out of Bucky’s lungs. His knees gave out, and Bucky found himself sitting on the hardwood floor. “I... I'm sorry, Steve.”

Steve heaved a heavy sigh. “If you don’t want to tell me something, it’s fine I get it; everyone is entitled to their privacy. I don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. But I can’t do this if you bring your problems into the bedroom with you. Some of the stuff we do... you know that it can be kind of dangerous and I need to know that you’re in the right headspace when we do this.”

Steve was right. He was completely right and Bucky had broken one of the cardinal rules of power play. He should have known better than that; he should have said something earlier, he should have... done so many things differently.

“Steve I’m so sorry! Honestly, I didn’t mean for it to happen. I know that's not an excuse but I really didn't mean to hurt you.”

“I know,” Steve said quietly.

He looked exhausted, but didn’t seem mad, which Bucky was taking as a good sign. Even still, Bucky was convinced that he’d just ruined everything. Ironic, that he’d made a mess of everything by trying not to screw up. And of course, it had to be the one good thing he’d managed to find in his personal life.

Bucky scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s funny,” he said bitterly, “when we started doing this, we sat down and made a list of rules and clearly defined what we were doing in the bedroom, but we never defined what we were doing outside of it.”

Steve gave him a confused look. “What?”

“Steve, I...” He looked down at the floor. “Okay so there are a couple of things...”

“Okay?” Steve said, looking at him expectedly.

“First off... What is... this?” Bucky asked, gesturing between them, “What are we doing? What am I to you? Is this just some sort of... arrangement? Like, a transaction?”

Clearly, Steve hadn’t been expecting that question, and it took him a few moments to compose himself. “I...” he was silent for a couple minutes, plainly struggling to find the words. “Yes and no? It might have started out as an arrangement for me, maybe at the beginning, but... it’s not anymore.”

Bucky’s heart jumped into his throat. “It’s not?”

Steve sighed, looking resigned. He dropped his hands between his knees, and looked away. “N-No, it’s not. I know these things are supposed to be a no-strings attached kind of deal, but I... I couldn’t help it.” Steve looked up, a pained expression in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky tried to digest this new information. This thing that they had... it wasn’t just some sort of transaction to Steve; he actually had feelings too?

“Wait, you’re sorry? For what?”

“I like you a lot, Bucky. You’re funny, and smart, and kind, and I... couldn’t stop myself from... growing strings...”

“Oh. Okay.” Bucky blinked up at Steve from where he was sitting on his floor, his legs feeling numb. “But that’s a bad thing?”

“I mean, yeah, isn’t it, Buck?” And Bucky wanted to die, but he loved it whenever Steve called him that. The fact that Steve had shortened his nickname was both stupidly funny and incredibly endearing at the same time. “This is supposed to be just... just physical, right? But I can’t seem to stop myself from growing feelings. Every time,” he said, his voice filled with emotion.

“Steve,” Bucky said, but the blonde wouldn’t look at him. “Hey, Steve,” Bucky whispered softly, placing a hand on his bare knee.

Steve looked up. His eyes were starting to turn red, and he just looked so vulnerable in that moment.

“Me too.”

“Huh?”

“About the strings? Me too.”

Steve blinked in disbelief.

“I like you too. Probably too much for my own good, if you ask me, but... yeah. This thing, between us? It’s stopped being purely physical for me a long time ago. That’s... kind of why I was so freaked out tonight. I thought that maybe this was just business for you, that maybe you didn’t feel the same way and it... scared me.”

Steve frowned. “No, Buck. What would make you think that? I thought... it was obvious, how much I liked you and how well we got along?”

“It was? Mostly, it was, but I wasn’t sure. I know I should have talked to you about this sooner but... I was scared about messing up what we had? And... well that’s kind of the second thing. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this... sugar daddy thing, is it?”

“What?”

“Sam... kind of threatened me, when you were in the shower.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Sam? Did WHAT?” Steve’s voice cracked on the last word, looking slightly hysteric.

“Yeah. He... kind of threatened me with bodily harm if I every hurt you and he kind of made it sound like you’d gotten hurt in a... similar sort of relationship arrangement in the past.”

Steve groaned, his head falling into his hands again. “I’m going to kill him.”

Bucky chuckled dryly. “That’s funny, cause that's what Sam threatened to do to me.”

“UGGGGG. SAAAMMM.” Steve sighed heavily. “But yeah, this isn’t my first time with a... significantly older man. Is it obvious?”

Bucky shrugged. “There were a couple things. You seemed surprisingly casual about it when we started up. Also, you never made a big deal about money, but it’s kind of obvious that you couldn’t have afforded the suit you wore to dinner the first time we went out. Plus, it looked specifically tailored but it also didn’t fit. Just small things like that. Sam confirmed it tonight during our 'conversation', though. He called me your ‘sugar daddy’.”

Sighing, Steve motioned for Bucky to sit beside him. “I really hate it when Sam calls it that. But yeah, you’re technically my third, I guess.”

Bucky whistled. “Third? Wow Rogers. You know how to catch 'em.”

“Yeahhh...” Steve paused, blushing.

“You don’t have to tell me about them if you don’t want to.”

Steve shook his head. “No, it's not that. I want to,” he said, looking into Bucky’s eyes.

They shared that look for several heartbeats before Bucky slowly closed the space between. He looked into Steve's eyes, silently asking for permission, before touching his lips against Steve’s. It was a chaste kiss, nothing more than the press of their closed mouths, but Bucky heard Steve’s breath catch just the same. Steve’s hand came up to cup Bucky’s face, and Bucky placed a hand on Steve’s neck, his fingers brushing at the fine hairs at the back of his head.

“I... like you a lot, Bucky.”

Bucky pressed another quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “Me too. I’d like to... keep doing this - whatever this is that we’ve been doing - with you. And... maybe more? If you want?”

Steve smiled, soft and small. “I’d like that. A lot. Boyfriends?”

Bucky beamed. “Definitely.”

They kissed again, this time with a bit of tongue, and something seemed to settle in Bucky's chest. It was so small, and so simple, and yet... Bucky somehow had a feeling that this would literally change everything.

“I... um...” Steve licked his lips. “I want to tell you more about... what happened before.”

“Okay”

“Okay... um...”

Bucky gathered Steve close, wrapping as much of the hulking young man in his arms as he could. Steve cuddled into Bucky’s embrace, and the warmth of his skin warmed Bucky’s heart.

“It started shortly after Ma passed away. She’d been a single mother for over ten years, and she was my best friend. I’d just started at NYU, and she didn’t have much to leave me. To say that I was barely scraping by would be a gross understatement. There were some months where I had to skip several meals a week to make rent and tuition.

“It was tough, but I met this one guy in my art class; we worked on a project together, and I remember a couple months into the term, he got this really bad case of the flu. Turns out, he worked shifts at a strip club downtown, and he asked me if I wanted to make some cash by covering a couple shifts for him. I really didn’t like the idea – not that I have anything against stripping or sex work, because I don’t, but I just didn’t feel like it was for me? Anyway, that’s how I met Thor.”

“You stripped?!”

“Only a couple times! It was good money but... I was never very good at it,” Steve said, his face heating in embarrassment.

“I doubt that,” Bucky said, eyeing Steve’s gloriously naked body.

“I was too awkward, to be honest. People could sense how anxious I was and it wasn’t a turn on. But anyways, I met Thor one night. Huge guy, probably in his late thirties. He was there with some business partners, and looked equally as uncomfortable being a guest as I felt being a stripper.” Steve laughed dryly. “We kind of ended up bonding that night? I basically spent the entire evening sitting in his lap being gently petted while he talked shop with his colleagues, but it was nice. He tipped me really well and told me he’d love to see me again, fully clothed next time, and gave me his number. That’s how it started.

“Thor was part of this Swedish diplomatic team; he worked as some sort of legal aid or something at the UN - he was raking in heaps of money - but being away from home was tough for him. We found that we both enjoyed the same things and enjoyed each other's company, so we started spending time together. In return for my time and companionship, Thor bought me all kinds of things.”

“Wait, you said you’d just started college?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, looking at his hands folded in his lap. “My first time was with him. I was barely eighteen when we met each other.”

“So this guy was literally twice your age?”

Steve looked down and nodded, blushing with embarrassment.

“Hey,” Bucky said, placing a hand on Steve's face. “I'm not judging, love is love, whatever form it takes, whenever it happens.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said, his voice a bit raw. “Honestly, I don’t even think the sex was main reason he wanted to see me. And it wasn’t like I was giving him sex in exchange for stuff; it wasn't like that. Thor's a really nice guy, and we genuinely got along well. I liked him a lot, and I was happy with him. We were together for just over 18 months.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. He taught me a lot, and not just about things in the bedroom. He had this whole... really unique perspective on life, and I really admired that. I learned a lot of important lessons about life and the world when I was with him.”

“How’d it... end?”

Steve sighed, and Bucky could feel the heartbreak in that one small sound. “He got a promotion and was called back to Sweden. I think he’s got some high ranking diplomatic position in the EU now.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said.

Steve shrugged. “I knew it was going to end eventually; I don’t think things could have realistically worked out for me and him. We were great friends, and lovers, for a time, but I think both of us knew it was a season-in-life sort of relationship. The age gap between us was too big, and I think I wasn’t in the right place, mentally, when we were together. I still had some growing up to do. I was also struggling with the loss of my mother at the time – not to say that I don’t still struggle with her loss now, but it was worse, back then. I was on my own for the first time, and I was dealing with a lot of things - inner demons and all that. We make better friends anyway.”

“You're still in contact?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, nodding. “We exchange Christmas cards every year, and he insists on sending me an excessively American-themed card on my birthday. He found it hilarious that I was born on the Fourth of July.”

Bucky laughed a little; he’d be lying if he said he disagreed.

“Anyway, after Thor went back to Sweden, I spent a couple months single. I needed some time to find myself again, to try to figure out who I was without my Ma, and it was good, but it was hard. I hate that I was forced to sell a lot of the things Thor got me to make ends meet, but I didn’t have much of a choice,” Steve said with a shrug, and it made Bucky's chest ache. It was evident that Steve had to part with many things that had sentimental value.

“Then, I randomly got a message from this guy, Brock Rumlow. He was this super well-off laywer; I’d met him a couple of times at some of the social events I’d attended with Thor. Apparently, he’d heard that Thor had returned to Europe and wanted to know if I was interested in entering into an arrangement with him.”

Bucky cringed. “I take it this is the guy that Sam was talking about.”

“Yeah. It was... messy. When I was with Thor, it felt strangely natural. But with Brock, it felt so... clinical. It felt like our whole association was strictly business. It was different, but at first, I didn’t think anything of it. If he wanted to treat it like just a transaction, I was fine with that. It was keeping me fed and clothed and that helped me, financially, even if I never accepted money straight up. I was just trying to survive, you know? And since the arrangement made things a bit easier, I thought why not? But then, after a couple months...”

Steve sighed, pressing his nose into the crook beneath Bucky’s jaw.

“Brock started getting... rough in bed. Well, rougher, I should say, since he was already pretty aggressive to begin with. I talked to him about it, and he kept promising to keep it in check, but... it kind of got out of control. I tried to de-escalate things, but Brock was the kind of guy who can’t be reasoned with when he’s got an erection. Sam finally convinced me to break things off. Brock was pretty pissed, and I think he stalked me for a bit after I ended it.”

Bucky shivered. “What an asshole!”

“Yeah. I... may have broken a few things during our time together.”

Anger flared. “Fucking asshole!” Bucky growled.

“...and he may have pushed me down a flight of stairs once.”

Bucky’s fingers tightened. “Steve...”

“I know! To be fair, the the stairs thing happened when I was trying to break up with him, and not while we were actually together, so there’s that.”

“STEVE!”

“Sorry.”

Bucky sighed.

“So... That's that.” Steve said,

"Thank you for telling me," Bucky said, pressing his lips to Steve's forehead, and Bucky could feel Steve's lips curling into a smile at the base of his neck.

Steve placed a kiss to Bucky’s stubble-dusted jaw. “So... sex?”

Bucky laughed. “You still have the energy? After the emotionally draining conversation we just had?”

“What? You don’t?”

“Why don’t we,” Bucky said, stroking his hand gently up and down the side of Steve’s ribcage, feeling his powerful lateral muscles shifting beneath his palm, “make love, instead?”

It was Steve’s turn to laugh. “Oh my god Buck, that was so cheesy.”

Bucky smiled. “But you loved it.”

Steve’s breath ticked Bucky’s throat. “Maybe,” he said, pushing Bucky back against the bed.


End file.
